


Happy Sugar Life

by ShippingAllShips



Series: Tomarry/Harrymort [20]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Codependency, Creepy Dumbledore, Deception, Happy Sugar Life Au, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M, Pedophilia, Possessive Behavior, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Romantic Fluff, Underage Kissing, Underage Relationship(s), Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingAllShips/pseuds/ShippingAllShips
Summary: “It shines brightly. It’s sweeter than all the cakes in the world. It soothes the mind. This feeling is all I know. How can I possibly describe it in words?”Tom Riddle did not know what love was. He did not know what shape it took, what it felt like, what it's taste was. His parents were no help in figuring this out, their love warped and twisted, so he set out to find it for himself. He had searched long and hard but could not find it, always feeling more empty and bitter with each failed relationship. He was certain that he would be this way forever, playing an elaborate game of pretend until he died.But now, he has found his love. It takes the shape of dark messy hair and large green eyes, feeling like warm hugs and soft kisses, tasting like spoonfuls of sugars so sweet Tom was sure he was going to choke. His love, unconventional and pure and sweet. Tom was never going to let this feeling go or let anyone try to take it from him.He would do anything to protect his happy sugar life.





	1. Life 1: Strawberry Milkshakes

**Author's Note:**

> :3c

Tom Riddle was easy.

However true that might be, that didn’t mean Abraxas wanted to hear about it while he waited for Tom outside of the school gates. He wondered why Tom was always the one that the gossip mill seemed to focus on, but it was not really that surprising.

Tom was handsome, even at the tender age of fifteen. Tall for his age, though not unreasonably so, with soft and curled brown hair and dark eyes; he was still young after all, his limbs a bit coltish and long, but he was quickly adjusting to it all. With sharp cheekbones, hidden slightly by soft cheeks, and light pink lips, Tom was undoubtedly the most visually pleasing person at school, as much as it was a blow to Abraxas’s own ego.

He would undoubtedly grow up to be an even better-looking adult and jealousy was an ugly thing, Abraxas supposed.

There were some rumors about Abraxas as well, along the same lines as Tom, but not nearly as severe. He didn’t care much for them, seeing as those who were spreading them were only trying and failing to make him look bad. He would actually have to care about what they thought for their opinions to hurt. Tom didn’t seem to care about them either.

He perked up when he saw Tom finally exit the school and make his way down the stone steps towards Abraxas. Hogwarts was not a large school, so it wasn’t long before Tom had crossed the grassy yard and was before him.

“Sorry. It took longer to get my stuff than I thought,” Tom said, smiling apologetically at him when he got close enough. “People just don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘move’ anymore.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t wait long,” he replied, falling into step beside Tom as they made their way off of school grounds and onto the sidewalk.

While he was unsure why Tom chose to walk home from school, he was grateful for the company. His own family forced him to walk most days— it would help keep him in shape, they had said with smiles far too kind for his liking, as though his strict diet and weekly exercise wasn’t enough to do that. He had no choice but to listen, they were his parents after all and there wasn’t much he could do to stop, at least not at his age. He couldn’t wait until he reached his majority and was finally free of their control, though he doubted it would be that easy.

They made their way out of the school gates and onto the busy sidewalk, where several other students were waiting to be picked up. Only a few were walking like they were, living less than a mile from the school if that. It wasn’t a problem for students to walk home, Hogwarts being right beside a well-off neighborhood on the outskirts of town, meaning for this time of day there was less traffic and a small walk for most students.

Abraxas, however, lived a good forty-five minutes from the school on foot. Tom lived closer, but not much. It was a lengthy walk, good exercise he supposed, not that he felt that he needed it anymore. Tom certainly didn’t.

The silence between them as they walked was very comfortable. Tom wasn’t usually very talkative, instead preferring to listen to Abraxas as he rambled about one thing or another, occasionally adding his own input. However, it was unusual for him to be staring so intensely at his phone, a happy smile making its way onto his face.

“So, did you meet a new girl? You seemed awfully happy the past few days.” Abraxas asked as they approached the crosswalk, standing patiently amongst the student’s already gathered. The light had just turned red, meaning they were going to be standing there for a while, and Tom was back to looking at his phone.

“Hm? Yeah, I met someone.” Tom said, a smile making its way onto his face, so happy and lovely that it physically hurt Abraxas to see. “We’ve already moved in together too. Well, they’ve moved in with me, but details, details.”

Moving in with someone wasn’t very serious. He could remember a few months ago when Tom had lived with his then-boyfriend, an intimidating Durmstrang student who was at least double Tom’s size and far too old to be dating him. It was safe to say, at least for Tom, that it wasn’t too serious of a thing. He wondered how long this one was going to stay. The longest had just made it past a week.

Annoyed that Tom was still focusing on his phone, Abraxas wrapped his arms around Tom’s waist, resting his head on Tom’s shoulder and pressing their cheeks together. “So, when are you gonna dump this one and we can go out again? There’s a new club in Knockturn I would love to check out and I really don’t want to go alone. They’ll be plenty of attractive women _and_ men hanging around and willing to buy _anyone_ drinks.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Tom’s head whipped around to stare into his eyes before he reached up, tugging on a strand of Abraxas’s blond hair harshly.

“You should really cut your hair. You don’t want people to mistake you for a girl.” Tom said, tugging once more and earning a cry of pain. Abraxas pulled away and glared at Tom, smoothing down the spot Tom had pulled. He didn’t think his hair was too long, just coming to his shoulders. His cousin Lucius’s hair was much longer.

“Besides, I’m done with all of that,” Tom said moving with the crowd as the light turned green, leaving Abraxas to follow. “I just told you, I’ve found someone for myself and I wouldn’t betray them by cheating on them. Breaking up with them it out of the question, too.”

“Really?” Abraxas asked, easily catching up to Tom and raising an eyebrow. “She must be very beautiful then. When will I get to meet her?”

They turned left and made their way into a more residential area, with expensive houses on both sides of the road and lampposts lining the roadside.

“Never. You would probably scare _him_ away,” Tom said cheerfully, earning an eye roll. Abraxas was the opposite of intimidating, at least in stature and looks. “But maybe done day I’ll introduce you to him. He’s very sweet.”

Abraxas felt his eyebrow join the other. Him. So Tom was seeing a boy, perhaps older given how secretive he was being. Abraxas was not one to judge on that matter, seeing as he had been with more than a few men himself, and definitely people far older than he should be going after. Though, he wondered how Tom’s parents were reacting to the news.

“I guess you’re pretty serious then if you’re already living together,” Abraxas commented idly. “How did you ever get your parents to approve of him living with you?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Tom said, smiling so wide that it made Abraxas’ chest hurt a bit. “Father is off on a business trip and mother is preoccupied. They won’t notice a thing.”

Abraxas hummed, turning back to the road ahead and effectively ending the conversation. That was good since they were near his road. Of course, it wasn’t his road exactly, just a four-way intersection where he and Tom always parted ways, Abraxas veering left while Tom continued on. It had no stop sign, only a small bench, and another lamppost.

“Hey, look at that,” Tom said, pointing out something on the post.

There was a sign. It wasn’t unusual to see one, advertising services or jobs that seemed a bit too good to be true, but this one wasn’t doing that. It was a missing poster, with a child staring back at them. Above, the name _Harry Potter_ was typed in bold letters, and below it announcing that he was missing, what he was last seen wearing—a large gray shirt and shorts— along with his birthday and height, and a phone number to contact if anyone saw him.

Abraxas frowned at the date on the poster. _Missing since March 17_ _th_ _._ That was over a month ago and he was sure this poster was fairly new, seeing as it wasn’t as weather-worn as the others. The kid was young too, his birthday placing him around seven or so. If someone had a kid that young that went missing, shouldn’t they have put up a sign much sooner, possibly even the next day?

Tom was also staring at the poster, his head tilted and an odd look on his face. His lips were pressed into a tight line and he was glaring at the paper, as though it had personally offended him. It was unnerving to see the amount of anger in his eyes, and Abraxas quickly thought of something to distract him.

“He’s been missing for a while, hasn’t he?” Abraxas said, pointing to the date. “It’s a shame they haven’t found him yet, he’s a cute kid. Kinda sad looking, but in a cute way. No wonder someone snatched him up.”

He had muttered the last part to himself, not missing the sharp look Tom gave him. It faded into a playful grin as he moved closer to Abraxas, his arms wrapping around Abraxas’ waist, uncomfortably in his personal space.

“Confessing something?” Tom asked, his accusatorial tone not matching the smile on his face, and Abraxas balked.

“Of course not! Why would I kidnap a kid? I’m not some sick pervert.” Abraxas huffed, trying to shift away from Tom and failing. “Plus, where would I even keep him? In my house, with my parents watching my every move?”

“Maybe you killed him and threw him in a ravine,” Tom teased, the grin on his face fading into mock-pity. “How heartless of you, tossing aside a child like he’s trash. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Oh, shut it, Riddle. I would never kill a living creature. Unlike _some_ people, I have a heart.”

“I object to that,” Tom said, laughing lightly. Abraxas found himself laughing as well. “I would at least keep him alive. He could be my little maid. Look at that little face, he would look good in a maid costume.”

“You’re awful.”

Abruptly, he realized just how close they had gotten to one another, Tom’s face uncomfortably close to his own and his body pressed tightly against Abraxas. He felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat, bringing his hand up to gently push Tom away.

“Well, I’m going now. Bye!” Abraxas said, a little too loud. He quickly walked towards his street, pausing to look back at Tom. He was still standing by the post. He smiled at Abraxas, waving him goodbye.

“See you tomorrow,” Abraxas called, giving Tom a small wave as he turned, fishing his airpods out of his pocket. He still had another thirty minutes of walking ahead of him—uphill halfway there, much to his displeasure—and he would rather not do it in silence.

_French Vanilla Mousse_

Tom watched as Abraxas turned the corner before he turned back to the paper on the post. The child was cute, there was no denying that. Large green eyes, hidden behind wire-framed glasses, and soft-looking black hair. Abraxas was right; he did look sad, staring at the camera with a blank and almost forlorn expression.

He was a very cute child, and the more Tom stared, the more he felt something crawling up his throat, as sweet as the picture on the post. Like Abraxas said, it was no wonder someone snatched him right up. He was adorable.

Tom glanced around, making sure there was no one around, before ripping the paper from the post and shoving it into his bag. He wondered down each post on the street, snatching the signs off of each that he came to, going as far as crossing the street and taking those posters down as well.

Once he was sure he had gathered them all, he threw them into a neighbor’s trash bin as he passed, humming to himself. His own home was a street over and he made sure to rip down each poster he came to, a bit frustrated that there were so many of them. Someone must have spent a lot of money printing them, seeing as they had put them up on each post on Tom’s street.

It was the oldest one on the street, a two-story house made of brick and surrounded by a tall stone fence. It was strange how big Tom’s father had been on privacy, especially after the divorce with his wife, but Tom was a bit grateful for it. It made things easier for Tom.

He took the steps two at a time and unlocked the door, letting himself into the house.

“I’m home,” Tom called as he entered the house, shutting the door and beginning to remove his shoes. He could hear the sound of feet hitting wood rapidly and he braced himself, letting off a small _oof_ when he found himself tackled.

“Welcome back!” Harry said, his arms squeezing tightly around Tom’s waist and burying his face in Tom’s tummy. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Tom said, running his finger through Harry’s hair. It was much softer and cleaner than it had been a few days ago, with far fewer knots now that it was being properly taken care of. “Where were you just now? Normally, you wait for me by the stairs.”

Harry pulled away then and held his arms up. Tom was all too happy to scoop Harry into his arms, cradling the smaller boy close and petting his hair. Harry was very light and almost bone-thin, which worried Tom a bit. He was sure he would have Harry back to a healthy weight in no time.

“I was cooking dinner for you,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Tom’s neck and nuzzling against him. “It’s almost done. I made soup!”

“I told you that you don’t have to cook anymore. I can take care of all that.” Tom sighed, making his way towards the kitchen. “You might hurt yourself and I don’t want that to happen.”

Harry Potter. His sweet little prince, the bright ray of sunshine that was the center of Tom’s universe, the sweetest boy Tom had ever met. There was something about Harry that set him at ease, the sight of him making a strange calmness overtake Tom and sweetness fill his mouth like no other.

No one had ever made him feel this way, ever caused such warmth and happiness within him, and he was never going to let Harry go.

“I know!” Harry objected, pouting a little. “I just wanted to make something for you since you always have to cook and I wanted you to relax today. You need a break too.”

Tom was going to melt. Melt right into the floor like a pile of caramelized sugar if Harry kept being so sweet to him.

“Well, I’m very happy that you thought of me then. Why don’t we eat dinner and then you can watch TV while I do my homework?” Tom said as they entered the kitchen. Harry nodded eagerly.

Tom smiled at him as he sat him down on a stool, turning to the soup on the burner. It did look good, a mix of meat and vegetables, and Tom licked his lips. Harry was an excellent cook.

“I saw a really cool show today!” Harry began as Tom got down two bowls for them. “It was about a sponge and he worked in a restaurant under the sea. Did you know sponges could talk? And he looked so silly too!”

_Chocolate Truffle Cheesecake_

Harry was humming softly, preoccupied with the rubber ducks floating in front of him as Tom worked the two-in-one shampoo into his hair, taking care not to accidentally get any in Harry’s eyes. It was easy with how still Harry was sitting, aside from his arms splashing the ducks around. For his own amusement, he swirled two little buns on the side of Harry’s head, laughing at the sight of them. They were too little to be actual buns and hair kept flying free from them, only making it more amusing to him.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, tilting his head to look at him and Tom laughed again.

“Nothing. Ready to dunk?” Tom asked and Harry nodded, his hand coming up to pinch his nose, his cheeks puffing out as he took a deep breath. Tom let out a small laugh at the sight and gently laid his hand on Harry’s back. Harry slid down and underneath the water, Tom’s free hand coming up to shake the shampoo from Harry’s hair.

He lifted Harry up a moment later, inspecting his hair to makes sure he had gotten all of the suds out of it. Harry turned around, splashing water over the edge of the tub, and smiled at Tom. Water and suds dripping down his face form his hair and Tom tutted, reaching beside him to grab a dry washcloth.

“All good?” Harry asked, allowing Tom to rub the water from his face.

“All good.”

Harry nodded, a mischievous smile making its way onto his face. Before Tom could react, he received a face full of water, making him sputter. He wiped the water from his face, glaring at Harry as he laughed.

Harry let out a small scream when Tom splashed him, laughing and splashing Tom back. There was going to be a huge water mess that Tom would have to clean up, but it was worth it to see Harry smiling and laughing so brightly. The sweetness of it was going to choke him, he was sure.

“Look! I’m all wrinkly!” Harry said, holding his hands up to Tom’s face. The pads of his fingers were wrinkled as was his palm. “Why do our hands get like that when we bathe?”

“The water is taking all the oil out of our skin and it makes all wrinkly. It’s happened to me too. See?” Tom held up hand up for Harry, showing him that his hand was just as wrinkled.

Harry gasped, grabbing Tom’s hand and pulling it closer to inspect it. “No! Tom, your hands! And they were so nice too…”

“It’ll go back when we get out and dry off,” Tom said, smiling when Harry gasped.

“Really?” he asked, looking so amazed at the thought that Tom couldn’t help but laugh again. It was cute how the smallest of things seemed to amaze him.

“Really. The wrinkles also let you know when it’s time to get out of the bath, like a little timer.” Tom said. “Since we’re all wrinkly, it means it’s time to get out. You can watch TV while I do my homework, okay?”

The water was getting cold anyway.

_Crème Brûlée_

Once dressed—Harry in an old shirt of Tom’s and him in a pair of sweats—they exited the bathroom and stood at the top of the stairs, in front of a large window. Tom pulled the curtain back as Harry ran to the supply closet, grabbing a thin sheet from within.

It was dark and the neighbor’s lights were all out, so Tom could pull the curtains back without fear of anyone seeing Harry. The moon was in the perfect position, rising above the other houses and spilling moonlight into the room. The scene could not have been more perfect. Tom smiled.

“You start tonight, Harry,” Tom said, kneeling down as Harry came running back with the sheet.

“Alright,” Harry said, wrapping the thin sheet over Tom’s head, an imitation of a veil. His smile faded to a more serious look as he spoke. “This I vow, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part, I will always love you.”

Harry smiled at him and leaned forward, placing a kiss on Tom’s forehead. Tom nearly melted and let out a small laugh, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and dragging him into a hug. Harry let out a laugh of his own and hugged Tom back, pressing Tom’s face against his chest. Tom nuzzled into him and Harry let out a light laugh, trying to squirm away.

“No, Tom, stop! That tickles!” Harry laughed, lightly pushing on Tom’s shoulders and bent over a bit, making Tom laugh lightly.

“Oh, it tickles?” Tom asked, a smirk on his face. “So does it tickle when I do…this?”

He fingers skittered over Harry’s sides, a squeal and more laughter, Harry’s legs kicking out a bit. Tom ignored them and continued to tickle him, making Harry lose his footing and fall to the floor. Tom was worried for a moment that he had gotten hurt, only to quickly grab Harry when he tried to wiggle away.

“No, Tom! Please stop!” Harry let out another squeal when Tom tickled his tummy and sides, twisting and laughing hysterically. He kicked out again, making contact with Tom’s tummy. Tom finally released him with a huff, doubling over in slight pain.

“Tom!” Harry gasped, sitting up and leaning closer to Tom. “Are you alright?”

Tom took this moment to wrap his arms around Harry and squeeze him close, peppering Harry’s face with kisses. Harry let out another squeal and launched himself back, causing Tom to topple back with him.

They landed in a pile on the floor, Harry still in Tom’s arms, both laughing and panting. Tom smiled at Harry and Harry smiled in return, making Tom’s heart soar and sweetness crawl up the back of his throat.

“Hey, let’s go to bed. It’s a bit late for you to be up.” Tom said, sitting up and holding his hand out for Harry. Harry nodded eagerly and took the offered appendage, allowing Tom to pull him to his feet.

Tom stood as well and they made their way to Tom’s room, the first door on the right. There were only four up there: Tom’s room, the bathroom, a storage closet, and his father’s room. He didn’t go into his father’s room often, and with him currently preoccupied, it was the most unused room in the house.

His room was very impersonal, or so he had once been told. He thought of it as practical and neat, if a bit empty. Despite his mother’s best attempts to get him to decorate in his early years, his walls were still bare and his floor spotless. It only had a few things in it—a desk with a chair and laptop, a few shelves on the wall, and a bed in the corner with a green duvet. The most notable thing was the large terrarium along the side wall, housing a snake longer than he was tall; his precious Nagini, the only other thing he had cared for until he had met Harry.

“Night, Nagini!” Harry said as he passed her cage, pressing a kiss on the glass where her face was. Tom almost melted again. Thankfully, Harry had not been afraid of her when Tom had introduced them and Nagini seemed to like him as well.

Once Harry had made it to Tom’s bed, he crawled in and slid over, patting beside him for Tom to join him. Tom smiled and made sure to sit down a bit harder than he should and bounce Harry. Harry gave him a little glare and Tom smirked, making himself comfortable and ignoring the look. It was a small double bed with plenty of room for both of them to lay comfortably, but Harry snuggled close to Tom. Tom did not object, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him closer.

“Night, Tom. Love you!” Harry said, giving Tom’s cheek a kiss.

“Good night. I love you too,” Tom said, kissing Harry’s forehead and nuzzling his hair. He gently rubbed Harry’s back, smiling when Harry sighed in delight and drifted off to sleep together, content with their happy sugar life.


	2. Life 2.1 Matcha Latte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally 10k words, but for the sake of you guys and my beta, I decided to cut it roughly in half. Part 2 will be out in the week. Also, have you guys ever had a matcha latte? The one I had tasted like Lucky Charms, the marshmallows to be exact.

School was a normal, boring affair, made worse now that Tom had someone at home waiting for him. He would rather be home, snuggling Harry as they watched TV and ate junk, than be sitting in a class that he was far too smart for. Harry had been very clingy that morning, holding onto Tom’s clothes a bit longer than he usually did and pouting all morning.

Had he been sick? He hadn’t felt any warmer than usual or looked flushed, but Harry was still in the mindset that he shouldn’t bother Tom for what Harry deemed trivial. Tom assumed that, given the last  _ trivial _ incident, Harry would classify being sick as trivial.

Tom would feel terrible if Harry had been ill and he had left him at home all alone. While he didn’t mind being alone when he was sick, he knew that it was common for others to want company, mainly small children. The temptation to walk back home and check on Harry and he was half-tempted to do so.

“What’s got you so focused?” Abraxas asked, his voice drawing Tom from his musings.

It was lunch time and they were sitting in the cafeteria, Abraxas picking at his lunch while Tom ate a bag of chips. Bellatrix, Abraxas’ friend—or cousin, Tom wasn’t sure—had joined them today. Tom was a bit annoyed at this; she was loud and obnoxious with a constant unhinged smile and manners that reflect the madness within. Her presence made the bitterness in Tom rise to the surface and he had to fight down a scowl whenever he saw her.

“Probably thinking about the newest love of his life.” Bellatrix cackled, balancing her chair on the back two legs, and Tom glared at Abraxas. Tom half-hoped she would fall and bust her head on the floor, maybe take her cousin with her.

“What?” Abraxas asked, stabbing a piece of lettuce and reluctantly bringing it to his mouth. Tom would never understand why he ate salads if he hated them so much. He could just not eat like Bella did. Tom half-hoped she would waste away from that. “Was it some kind of secret?”

“Not really, but I would have preferred it to have stayed between us,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.

“Have you ever tried to keep anything from Bella?”

“Is she a pretty girl?” Bellatrix interrupted, earning a sharp glare from Tom. She seemed unfazed by it.

“Why would I date  _ him _ if I didn’t think he was pretty?” It was annoying how much everyone was assuming Harry was a girl.

“Boy? You’re really going to settle with a boy?” Bellatrix balked then let out a sharp yelp, her knee colliding with the bottom of the table as she jumped.

“Don’t be rude.” Abraxas scowled at her, stabbing another piece of lettuce viciously. Tom snorted.

“I’m just saying! He could do so much better than some ratty boy.” Bellatrix huffed, glaring at Abraxas.

“Like who?” Abraxas said sharply, glaring back. Tom raised an eyebrow at the sudden tension. He was obviously missing something here that he couldn’t be bothered to figure out what and he could always figure out what exactly later on.

“Mister Riddle, may I speak to you for a moment?” Mr. Dumbledore said, appearing beside their table as silent as a ghost.

Mr. Dumbledore was the P.E. teacher, doubling as a student teacher and a reasonable good looking man. He was un his early thirties, with a neatly trimmed beard and long red hair pulled into a low ponytail, graying around the temples. His fashion sense was something of a mystery, his nice three-piece-suit ruined by the fuchsia undershirt and happy-faced tie.

While Tom did not particularly like the man, something about the man’s gaze on him not feeling right, he was still very grateful for the interruption.

“Of course, sir,” Tom said, sliding the bag towards Abraxas as he stood. “You can have the rest.”

Abraxas scowled. “You know I’m not allowed to have chips.”

“There’s just a few left. I’m sure your diet will be fine.” Tom scowled back, grabbing his school bag from the floor and following after the man.

“If you eat that, I’m telling your mother,” he heard Bellatrix say as he followed Mr. Dumbledore out of the canteen and into the halls. Tom was sure he could see a flash of hot-pink socks with every step the man took. He wondered, not for the first time, who dressed this man.

“I hope I was not interrupting,” Mr. Dumbledore said, giving Tom as smile as they walked down the mostly empty halls. It was lunch time and students weren’t allowed to roam the halls, so it was just the two of them.

“You weren’t. Is something wrong?” Tom asked when the older man had finally stopped walking, turning to Tom. They were in a walkway, one of the more secluded parts of the school that overlooked a courtyard.

“Not exactly. I and several other teachers have attempted to contact your home on some school related matters, but no one seemed to answer,” Mr. Dumbledore said, frowning slightly. “Is everything alright?”

“Why were you calling my house?” Tom asked instead, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not in trouble, am I? Because I haven’t done anything.”

“No, no, of course not. You’re a model student, my boy,” Mr. Dumbledore assured him, and Tom felt himself cringe at the nickname. “We—the other teachers—were thinking of putting you in more advanced classes next year, since you seem bored in the ones you’re currently in. We need your fathers’ permission first and we assumed calling would be the fastest way to get that.”

“Why do you need that? I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” Tom said, frowning a bit. That didn’t sound right to him.

“Not according to the law. You still have another three years for that. We would also like to discuss a few other things with your legal guardian, but seeing as your father is out of town, we will have to wait on those things.”

“We might have been asleep,” Tom finally said, keeping his face carefully blank as he stared at Mr. Dumbledore’s face. It wasn’t like anyone would answer the phone but he didn’t think he should that tidbit with his teacher.

“This was around four,” Mr. Dumbledore said and Tom nodded.

“Mom likes to take naps throughout the day and I don’t usually get home until after that,” Tom said, his eyes finally straying Mr. Dumbledore’s face to the window and the courtyard below. There were a few students gathered there, some eating lunch and a few chasing each other around. Children, really.

“Is she up in time to make you diner?”

“Yeah. We don’t eat until later,” Tom said, watching as one kid tripped over his own feet and face-planted hard on the ground. Tom held down a laugh when the kid set up, his hands coming up to hold his face, his wail of pain barely heard through the glass.

“Oh, that’s good.” Tom could hear the smile in his words. “You’re a growing boy, it wouldn’t do for you to miss a meal. Though, it must be difficult for you. With your parents’ divorce and your father always being away.”

“Not really,” Tom said, finally looking back at his teacher. He looked concerned and Tom had to fight down a scowl. He hated pity. “Is that all you wanted to talk about? Class will be starting soon.”

“Tom…how do I put this?” Mr. Dumbledore’s hand came up to gently touch his shoulder. Tom glared at the appendage from the corner of his eye. It was far too familiar for his liking but not overly threatening. “You don’t seem as stable as the other boys your age. You excel in class but don’t seem to have any ambitions for the future. And some of the things that the staff has overheard said about you…it’s greatly worried some of us that you’re throwing away your life like this.”

“Is this about me sleeping around?” Tom asked, barely containing an eye roll. It was always about him sleeping around. “If so, I’ve stopped that already, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that was the concern of some of the staff,” Mr. Dumbledore said, sighing afterwards. “There is also the concern about your home life. We know that your father is away on business and that your mother is staying over to watch you, but whenever we call the number listed, no one answered. As hard as this may be for you to believe, we do care about you here, my boy, and after having met your father last year, you can understand our concerns.”

Yes, Tom could. His father had not spared any harsh words when he had dragged Tom out of the office last year by his arm, tight enough that Tom had had a bruise for a few weeks. It wasn’t Tom’s fault the boy he had been fooling around with couldn’t keep his voice down, though Tom had been sure to let him know just how much it was his fault the next time Tom had seen him. That fall the stairs had been a terrible accident and Tom had assured him that if he ever told, he would be taking a tumble out of something much higher from the ground.

“It’s fine now,.” Tom said honestly, because it was. Harry made everything fine. “Everything’s been taken care of, so there’s no need for any of you to worry.”

Mr. Dumbledore looked like he wanted to say more, but the bell rang then, signaling that lunch was over.

“I’ll talk to Father over the phone tonight about the classes and see if he’ll give you guys a call,” Tom said, turning to leave. He was bit farther away from his class than he would have liked. There was a reason he ate in the canteen and not the courtyard, but he could make it if he ran.

_ Egg Tarts _

“Sorry, I can’t make it out this weekend either.”

“But why?”

Tom pulled the phone away from his ear, scowling at the device. Abraxas sure whined a lot for a stuck-up rich kid and Tom was certain he hadn’t been this clingy when they had first met. Harry behaved better most of the time and he was a child.

He tapped the volume button, satisfied when the whining from the other end died down, and pressed it back to his ear. “I just can’t. I’m busy this weekend.”

“You’re busy every weekend.” Abraxas huffed on the other side and Tom felt his lip twitch. It was cute how childish his friend was. “Spending time with your boyfriend then?”

“Yep.”

“But you spend every weekend with him.”

“Because I love him and want to see him.” Tom ignored the choked sound on the other end, taking a sip of his drink. Harry had been ecstatic when Tom had suggested they make milkshakes, seeing as he had never had one before, and Tom had practically melted at the sight of Harry’s chocolate smeared and smiling face. “Why don’t you ask Bella to go out with you? I’m sure she would love to get out of the house for once.”

“No, she can’t. She has to plan her wedding this weekend.” Bella was due to be married as soon as she finished high school to an older boy at Beauxbatons, a pretentious private school on the upper side of the city. Come to think of it, Tom’s city had a lot of pretentious private schools, with Hogwarts at the bottom of the list.

“Already? Did they up the date?”

“No, it’s still right after graduation. She’s just being stubborn and won’t pick a color scheme.”

Tom snorted. “It’s a good thing they started planning this early then. Maybe by graduation she’ll at least know what kind of flowers she wants.”

Abraxas hummed on the other side and Tom could hear a wrapper crinkle. Breaking his diet again, probably from the stash Abraxas had underneath his bed. “Can you really not come?”

Tom sighed, barely keeping the annoyance out of it. “No, I can’t. You can go alone and I can act as your cover. Tell your mom you’re studying at my house and when she calls to confirm, I’ll send a pic.”

There was some grumbling on the other side followed by a sigh. “I could ask Bella if she wanted to go next weekend. It’s more her scene than yours anyway.”

Tom felt a tinge of guilt at the defeated tone but still found himself smiling. It was nice that Abraxas was dropping the subject. “That sounds great. I hope you two have a good time.”

“Thanks. I need to go now, dinner time.” Abraxas muttered something underneath his breath, possibly about salads, and Tom couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, have a nice meal. Bye.”

He hung up after Abraxas had returned the words, tossing his phone onto the pillow beside him. He was seated on the couch in the family room, as Tom’s father had once called it; Tom usually called it the stay-away-from-important-guest room. It was nice, with a leather couch shaped like an L that was worth way too much money and a flat screen, complete with a gaming system Tom hardly used. His father spared no expense in furnishing it, if only to keep Tom far away from him and occupied.

“I’m all done with the dishes!” Harry announced happily as he ran into the room, jumping onto the couch beside Tom. The front of his shirt was a little wet and darkened in spots, obviously having washed them by hand.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Tom said, clicking his tongue as he lifted Harry onto his lap. He winced when Harry snuggled against him, soaking the front of Tom’s shirt as well. “I would have put them in the dishwater later, you didn’t have to do it by hand.”

“I know, but I didn’t want us to get bugs. That’s what happens when you leave dishes in the sink for a while,” Harry said as though they were wise words and Tom fought down a smile. “Who were you talking to? I heard you on the phone and tried to be super quiet like you told me to.”

“No one important,” Tom said, reaching for the remote and flicking on the TV. “Do you want to watch cartoons? We have a few more hours before bedtime.”

“No. We always watch what I want to, so we should watch something you want to!” Harry said and Tom felt like he was going to melt into the floor. Harry was so kind, thinking of Tom like that.

“You’re so sweet,” Tom said, kissing the top of Harry’s head and flicking through the channels, eventually settling on a crime drama.

_ Pumpkin Pie _

Tom knew he was being followed. It was kind of obvious, his stalker obviously not used to tailing someone. It was almost charming in a way, the novelty of being stalked instead of doing the stalking. However the novelty was wearing away very fast. He had already circled the block three times, unwilling to let the person know his home address, but unlike the previous days, they were not giving up today.

It was annoying, seeing as it was getting dark and he should have been home an hour ago, cuddling with Harry on the couch.

Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. His sweet little boy, who was probably worrying himself sick waiting for Tom. He hoped Harry had found something to eat before he got home and wasn’t waiting on the steps like he had been the last few days. He would get sick if he kept that up.

Deciding that this game had gone on long enough, he cut down an alleyway between two houses, narrow and shaded, obscured from the street. The perfect place for anyone to grab him if they wanted to.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“You’re very good at shaking people, Tom,” Mr. Dumbledore said, smiling at Tom as he entered the alley. “Though, I wonder why you chose to corner yourself like this.”

“Hello, sir,” Tom said, tilting his head. “So you’ve been following me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Mr. Dumbledore said, chuckling as he stepped closer to Tom. “I was just concerned about—”

“Cut the bullshit. What do you want?” Tom snapped, making his teacher blink at him. Tom didn’t really curse often, but his annoyance was very high right now and his patience had long worn thin.

“What do I want? I wonder.” The man said, a slow smile making its way across his face. “You’re a very smart boy, Tom. You tell me.”

There were plenty of reasons to stalk someone, Tom knew. Revenge, predation, hatred, a misguide way to approach someone, all were valid reasons to tail someone. Tom hadn’t done anything to the man yet, and as far as he knew his teacher held no ill will towards him. With the look on his teacher’s face, the smile on his face and dark twinkling in his eyes, not unlike a cat who had finally cornered the mouse, it wasn’t hard to figure out why he had been targeted.

“You find me attractive.” Tom said, a grimace on his face. “Gross. I’m a child, you know that right?”

“And what a lovely child you are,” Mr. Dumbledore said, sighing in what could only be described as delight. “You’re just my type. Dark hair, pale skin, beautiful eyes. So smart and kind, but there’s something dark lurking just beneath the surface. Such a broken little thing too. I can see in your eyes. You need someone strong to guide you, to set you down the right path. Someone like me.”

Gross. Really gross, but something Tom was used to hearing. He had men and women constantly tell him that he was just their type, calling him mature and so smart and  _ not like those other children _ . All sugar-coated words to win his affections, something he had never minded before. Yet, when his teacher said those words to him, revulsion curled in his gut and leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wondered why.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. All those years, when I first saw you in school, so small and cute. I wanted you right then and there, so handsome for your age. But you were too young then and who knows what trouble I could have gotten into for that.” Mr. Dumbledore smiled, the sight of it making Tom sick. It was a twisted looking thing, stretching too far across his face and not quite reaching his eyes. A far cry from the usual kind smile he sported. “And I waited. Patiently, so patiently, waiting as you grew from a little boy into a fine young man. What luck would have it, that you turned out to be such a little tramp.”

Tom’s lip twitched, the taste in his mouth repulsive. Four years watching Tom, waiting for Tom to grow. How disgusting.

“I heard you talking about how you’ve found someone now. A bit disappointing, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m sure I’m so much better than them,” Mr. Dumbledore continued, unaware of the disgust rising in Tom. “I’m sure you do all kinds of thing together, don’t you? I bet you let him touch you and hold you and kiss you. Ah, I want all of that too. To hold you close and breath in the scent of you, your sweat, your cologne, your hair, I want all of it. To have you spread out in front of me, your beautiful skin flushed as I give you pleasure you’ve never known. I want to see the look on your face as I make you forget about your love as you dive deep into lust.”

“Gross.” Was the only thing Tom could say, the disgusting bitter taste creeping up his throat.

Each word, so foul and disgusting, made the taste in Tom’s mouth worse and he shook with how awful it was. So bitter, so gross. What he had said about Harry, how he tried to twist what they had without knowing anything about it, to make it into something it was not. Tom would never do such things to Harry, would never think of twisting that innocence and purity into something as disgusting as the man in front of him. Just the thought of it made Tom want to retch, the bitterness in his mouth so strong, and the rage inside him build.

He didn’t know if he was going to be sick or hit the man before him.

“It’s not gross, Tom. It’s love,” Albus smiled, stretching wide across his face. “It’s okay that you don’t quite understand it; you’re still just a child. You need someone to guide you to the path of love, to show you how to properly love someone.”

He launched forward and grabbed Tom’s arm, making Tom stumble as Dumbledore violent jerked him closer. “You’re shaking like a leaf. There’s no need to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. Just bring me to your house. Your father is out of town and you said yourself that your mother is still asleep. I’ll show you how adults love each other.”

_ That’s just how love is, Tom _ .

The words echoed through his mind, so sweet and soft, spoken from a woman beaten down by her own life choices, by her own selfish pursuit of love. A disgusting pathetic woman who clung to the bitterness that threatened to consume Tom, who attempted to fill Tom with lies about what love was.

_ That was not how love was. _

Love was sweet. It tickled the taste buds and dripped down the back of your throat, thick and warm like syrup. This…this was bitter, disgusting and foul, rising from deep within him.

Tom’s fist connected with flesh before Tom realized it, making his teacher yelp and stagger back, holding his cheek. His foot came up and kicked the man in the shin, and he took the opportunity to quickly rush past him. He could hear the man cursing the alley but not following him, and he knew that both spots were going to sport nasty bruise.

But, that was the least of Tom’s worries. All he could think was those disgusting the man had said to him and bitter taste rising in his throat and the trembling of his hands.

It was all gross. Gross and bitter, so, so bitter. He wanted to see Harry immediately.

_ Francúzsky krémeš _

“Welcome back!”

Harry barely had time to say his greeting before Tom dropped to his knees and embraced him, his strong arms wrapping around Harry’s body and pulling him close.

“Why are adults so gross, Harry?” Tom muttered into Harry’s hair, burying his face in it. “So bitter and gross and disgusting. I want to puke.”

Harry blinked when Tom nuzzled his hair, his own hands coming up to gently pat Tom’s back. He had never seen Tom like this and he wondered what had made Tom so upset and what he could do to help. “It’s okay. There, there. It’s alright.”

Tom only held him tighter, making Harry huff as he was squeezed a bit too hard. “I don’t want that bitterness. I want just my sweet little Harry. I only want sweet happiness, not that bitter mess.”

Oh, that would make Tom feel better!

“Okay!” He pulled back from Tom, placing his hand on either side of Tom’s face and pulling him close, bringing their lips together in a quick kiss. Tom blinked at him when Harry pulled away, peppering Tom’s face with more kisses.

Tom licked his lips when Harry finished. “Sweet. And sticky.”

“Yeah, I had some ice cream for a snack,” Harry said, smiling at Tom. “Do you feel better?”

Tom looked at him for a moment before smiling back at him. “Of course. You always make me feel better.”

He wrapped his arms around Harry again and leaned against the door, Harry falling onto his chest. He was a bit worried when Tom’s head hit against the door, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, he offered Harry another smile.

“Let’s cuddle for a bit. I have something I need to think about, okay?” he said, gently running his fingers up and down Harry’s back, earning a small shiver. While he did like it when Tom did that, it always made him shiver at first.

“Okay!” Harry said, wiggling around until he was more comfortable on Tom’s chest, his head resting right above Tom’s heart. It was calming to hear and, combined with Tom’s petting, lulled him to sleep in a few minutes.

 


	3. Life 2.2 Matcha Latte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this out yesterday but I kept playing Pokemon Moon instead lol

Albus lead a charming life. A secure job as a teacher, a nice two-story house, and a charming husband in said house.

“Are you going to be late again tonight?” Gellert asked, frowning as he watched Albus prepare for work. “It gets so lonely without you here.”

Gellert was the love of his life, even after ten years of pseudo-marriage and five years being official. While he had finally lost the last bit of his youthful charm and was slowly starting to show his age, it didn’t make Albus love him any less.  It was due to his lack of facial hair, seeing as Albus had expressed his displeasure of it, and his slightly long hair that framed his face, both requests of Albus; it had excited Albus to know his husband would do such things for him.

Gellert was like that and had always been, however. Always happy and smiling, eager to please Albus. He had even been there long before they had been official, comforting Albus about his sister’s untimely demise and his brother’s disappearance soon afterward. He never questioned why Albus had to stay after work so much and for that, Albus was grateful. Truly, Albus was lucky to have a man such as Gellert by his side.

“I know. But you know how it is,” Albus said, smiling at his pouting lover. Really, Gellert was too cute, almost as cute as Albus’ students. “A good teacher is like a candle; it consumes itself to light the way for others.”

“Really? I always thought it was ‘those who can’t, teach,’” Gellert said, grinning as he wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist, pulling him close. “‘And those who can’t teach, teach gym.’”

“You’re very rude this morning,” Albus said, grinning as well.

Gellert hummed, pressing a kiss to Albus’ cheek and Albus resisted the urge to flinch. It was right above where Tom had punched him a week ago. The bruise had finally started to fade, Tom’s fist having left a rather impressive mark on his face. He was lucky his beard covered it up.

Albus supposed he had been lucky so far. Usually, he was able to tell when a student would be receptive to his advances, but Tom had surprised him. He had heard the whispers of the students and a few less than professional staff members, about the boy’s very loose morality and troubled home life. He fit the bill that Albus had made, a troubled youth who did his best to act as though everything was alright, and while he may have been a bit unnerving in his approach, he hadn’t done anything to warrant a punch; a slap would have sufficed.

He was very lucky that Tom hadn’t called the cops on him, but he had assumed fear was made Tom hesitate. Thinking back on it, he doubted the boy had been afraid. He had been shaking, but his eyes were burning with fire when he had drawn back, and Albus could safely say it was  _ rage  _ instead of fear. It left Albus wondering what he had said to enrage the boy so.

“You work too hard,” Gellert whined, bringing Albus from his thoughts. “You should ask for a vacation soon. I miss spending time with you at home.”

“Summer is coming soon. I’ll have two months off just for you,” Albus said, turning his head to give Gellert a kiss.

“Not soon enough,” Gellert whined when he pulled away, pouting. It was too cute and Albus was tempted to call out from work just to spend more time with him, but his students were far cuter.

He gave his husband another quick kiss and pulled away, grabbing his briefcase as he passed it in the hall. Gellert followed glumly behind him, as he always did in the mornings. Albus found Gellert’s insistence in seeing him off enduring, like a kid unwilling to part with their parents.

He opened the door, taking a few steps down the stairs and freezing. Tom was standing on the sidewalk, right behind his car, a look of surprise on his face.

“Hello, sir. I didn’t know we lived on the same street,” Tom said, smiling in a way that spelled trouble. “What a coincidence.”

“Indeed,” Albus said, forcing his own smile. What a coincidence it was, considering that he had seen Tom’s address and knew that he lived at least ten kilometers away. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you walking before.”

“I’m running late today. I don’t think I’ll make it on time,” Tom said his smile widening. “Could you give me a lift? I would hate to be late and ruin my record so close to the end of the year.”

Albus opened his mouth to object, but Gellert interrupted from behind him. Albus had forgotten about him. “That would be a good idea. It looks like rain. And we wouldn’t want to ruin his perfect record, would we?”

Tom smile brightened, tilting himself so that he could look at Gellert. “Hello, Mr. Gellert. How are you this morning?”

“I’m good, thank you, Tom. And please, call me Gellert. No need for the mister. I’m not your teacher,” Gellert said, smiling back at Tom. “Would you like something to eat before you go? I’m sure we have some left over toast and eggs. Do you like scrambled?”

“Yes, please. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast and I’m starving,” Tom said, bright smile still on his face when his eyes flicked back to Albus. “I’ll wait in the car.”

He followed Gellert back into the house as Tom approached his car, reluctantly taking his eyes off of the boy. Seeing Tom here made him uneasy, wondering what the boy planned to do exactly. He wouldn’t tamper with a car he was riding in, right?

“Dear, I don’t think taking him to school is a good idea. People might get the wrong idea,” Albus said, watching as Gellert spooned some eggs into a small container.

“It’s going to rain, Albus. I don’t want him walking out in the rain. Besides, I know you’re just driving him and nothing more, so what does it matter what others think?” Gellert said, thrusting the eggs into his hands along with a fork. “Now get going. You wouldn’t want such a model student to be late, would you?”

Albus knew better than to argue with Gellert when he had already decided something, so Albus simply nodded and turned to leave. Gellert’s arm on his stopped him and a kiss was placed on his cheek, and Albus fought down a wince. This time he managed to kiss the bruise directly.

“Have a good day at work,” Gellert said, his eyes flicking to the car where Tom was and then back to Albus, a pleasant smile on his face as his fingers tightened on Albus’ arm. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Albus said with a forced smile, turning and walking stiffly to his car.

Tom, the little demon, was already sitting the passenger seat, the door still open so Albus could see him fiddling with the knobs on the dashboard. He smiled at Albus when he shoved the container into Tom’s hand and slammed his door, making his way to the driver side and getting in.

Tom waved at Gellert as Albus backed out before making himself comfortable, sliding down low in his seat and propping his knees on the console, the container of eggs resting on his stomach. He popped open the lid and began to eat, humming when he took the first bite.

“Your husband’s a good cook,” Tom said around a mouthful of eggs, stabbing into the container with more force than necessary. Albus wondered if it was an actual threat or if Tom was naturally that violent when he ate.

“How do you know where I lived?” Albus asked as he drove them down the street. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tom smirk, eating another forkful of egg.

“You aren’t the only one who’s good at stalking.” He sounded so smug that Albus wanted to hit him. “I will say, I’m much better at it. Your footsteps were far to heavy and I always felt like I was being followed. You should really work on that the next time you try to tail a professional.”

Albus chose not to comment on that, instead thinking back to the earlier conversation. “How do you know my husband?”

“My, aren’t we full of questions this morning?” Tom said, looking far too amused for Albus’s liking. “You stay so late at school and your husband gets so lonely. You should pay more attention to him. He really loves you. But, I wonder what he would do if he found out you were cheating on him? He didn’t strike me as the type to take that sort of stuff lightly.”

“What are you trying to imply?” Albus asked, stopping at a red light for a group of students to pass by. They were close to the school now, as it wasn’t too far from Albus’ house but still too far to walk. He was grateful that none of them took note of Tom in his car.

“Nothing.” Tom hummed, finally finishing his eggs and tossing the container into the back. Albus gritted his teeth, knowing that there was going to be eggs all over his car. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. We just chatted a lot while you were, ah,  _ still at work _ . He’s a very brilliant man and I found I actually enjoyed talking to him, learned quite a lot as well. We’re a lot alike when it comes to loving someone, you know.”

Albus did not find that comforting. The same when it comes to love. What could Tom mean by that? 

Tom didn’t give Albus time to answer, continuing to talk. “It was surprising to see that you were married. I wonder why you keep it secret. Is it easier to get boys to drop their pants for you if they don’t think you have someone? I doubt it would have mattered. Some of the boys I’ve met don’t care one way or another.” Tom laughed. “Honestly, do you even love him or is he just a cover for your other tastes?”

“I love him. We’ve been together for years,” Albus said reluctantly. He knew Tom was going somewhere with this, but he couldn’t see where. “I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t love him.”

Tom hummed. “Is that so? You sure don’t act like it, pursuing other people, sleeping with the little boys you teach. When you love someone, you don’t go cheating on them. And that’s really gross, don’t you think? Having sex with your students, who aren’t even old enough to consent. Tell me, how many did you force yourself on without a clear yes or no? Does it help you sleep better at night knowing that they never actually said no?”

Albus slammed on the brakes and Tom didn’t even move an inch. Albus was certain he didn’t have on his seatbelt a moment ago. “Get out.”

“We’re not at school yet,” Tom whined, pouting a bit. It was both cute and infuriating. “We still got a few more blocks.”

“Walk.”

“But the rain, sir. I don’t want to get wet.” Tom whined again, the pout on his face morphing into a sharp grin. The urge to hit him returned again but Albus refrained. It was probably what the little brat wanted.

“It’s not raining. Get out and walk.”

“Aw, don’t want to chat anymore? How rude, I thought this conversation was going well. Or did I strike a nerve?” Tom laughed, reclining comfortably in the seat and despite what himself, Albus felt his eyes move from Tom’s face to his long and lovely neck. “Let’s talk a bit more. Besides, there are some students coming and I don’t think it would look too good if I got out of your car right now.”

He was right, students walking idly by Albus’ car without sparing it more than a glance. They would certainly notice if Tom stepped out and might get the wrong idea.

“What attracts you to me the most, sir?” Tom purred, his hand coming up to fiddle with his tie, loosening it a bit to expose the pale skin beneath. It looked so soft and smooth, still child soft and hairless, and Albus longed to run his tongue across it. He almost slapped himself for that thought; now was not the time to be getting distracted. “Is it my mind? My personality? My body? A lot of people say it’s my body. So nice and soft for a boy, so unfairly pretty they just can’t control themselves when they see me? Can you not control yourself, sir? Does the sight of me just drive you wild?”

“I can. I do it every day,” Albus objected but Tom’s smirk told him it was bullshit.

“Really? Because I don’t think stalking a student is considered being in control. Unless we have two different definitions of the word. I think someone who’s in control of themselves wouldn’t even consider following a child around.”

“And yet you stalked me,” Albus said, his eyes following Tom’s movement as he undid his tie, allowing it to hang down.

“Well, I am  _ just _ a child. We don’t have much control over our impulses,” Tom said, his fingers undoing the top three buttons of his shirt and pushing them to the side. His blazer prevented more skin from being shown, but it was more than enough to make Albus swallow. Tom had nice skin. He had seen it while the boy was changing for gym, smooth and pale without a blemish in sight.

“Adults like you disgust me. Preying on the young and naive, finding satisfaction with bodies that have just begun to hit puberty. Tell me, how many sweet words do you have to say before a student strips for you? How often do you say that you love them just so they’ll spread their legs?” Tom smirked. “You just can’t control yourself, can you? Like a dog being teased by a bitch, the sight of children just arouses you, doesn’t it? Does the doggy wanna hump something that bad?”

“Yeah, I do,” Albus said, shifting to lean close to Tom. He was close enough to smell the cologne the boy used, something he couldn’t place but undoubtedly expensive.

“Well, then why don’t you? A little taste won’t hurt, right? I don’t have all day.” Tom said, leaning back in his chair, looking like a nymph in a school uniform more than a student. Tom really was so unfairly attractive.

This was too good to be true. He had just berated Albus for this and now he was offering himself up. But, given Tom’s personality, it might have been foreplay for him. He seemed like the type who got off on harassing and belittling his partners. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth, when one was so nice looking as Tom.

It happened in slow motion. His hand glided over Tom’s chest and his breath quickened the same time Tom draped his arm over his back, dragging Albus closer to him with a coy smile. Tom leaned in close, their lips so close to touching, and the sound of a click echoed through the car. Albus tore himself from Tom and glanced around, finding that they were finally alone on the road, and dread quickly overtook him.

He looked at Tom, who was still lounging on the seat, looking entirely unconcerned as he stared at his phone.

“You really like you’re enjoying yourself,” Tom said, tilting his head as he observed the picture, his fingers tapping on the screen. “It’s a good picture of your face too, in full view and everything.”

“Give me that,” Albus said, attempting to grab the phone form Tom’s hand, only for him to sit up and hold it out of reach.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tom said lightly, his phone tilted slightly so he could see the screen. It was a messenger app, the words  _ DAD _ displayed clear at the top. He could clearly see that they had been talking this morning and Albus felt his heart leap into his throat. “Who knows what might happen?”

Albus made to grab the phone again but Tom held it further away, his finger coming up to wag at him. “If you bump me, I might  _ accidentally _ press send. That would end badly for you. You really look like you’re enjoying yourself in this photo.”

No, he didn’t want that. Accusations he could deny, but photos were incriminating. Even if Tom were a willing participant, he wasn’t considered old enough to give consent. He would be facing charges at the very least, and if anyone else came forward, it wouldn’t be too good either. He would have to wait until Tom put his phone down to swipe it. Then he could delete that stupid picture.

“If you’re thinking about confiscating my phone during class, all my photos save to my drive at home,” Tom said as if reading Albus’ mind. “Even if it’s gone from my phone, I can always just upload it online. My, I wonder what would happen then?”

Bad things. Very bad things are what would happen. Albus wasn’t so stupid to think there wasn’t repercussions, having  _ sexual _ relations with minors while married. He didn’t want Gellert, much less the school, to find out about this.

“I understand how you feel. Children are just so cute that you can’t help but want to touch even if you shouldn’t. Though I guess that you take it a bit farther than most would,” Tom said sympathetically. “You really should learn how to control yourself more. Bad things  _ will  _ happen if you can’t.”

Tom’s phone dinged then and he offered Albus another sweet smile.

“If I can control myself, a grown man like you should have no problem restraining himself too,” Tom said, bringing his phone down and tapping at the screen. “Oh, Abraxas just texted me. I should be going; he’ll want to hang out before class.”

Albus watched as he quickly typed something out and locked his phone, slipping it into his blazer pocket. He leaned down and grabbed his school bag, opening the door and stepping out.

“See you in class, sir,” Tom said with a wave, slamming the door and leaving Albus stunned in his seat.

_ Cannoli _

Ginny Weasley had a problem. It was a reasonable problem after what had happened to her while she had been walking home from school a month ago, but she wanted it gone.

She was terrified of men.

This would not be too much of a problem, had her family not consisted of her six older brothers and father, her mother the only other woman; she couldn’t even walk out of her room without bumping into one of them and, thankfully, she had finally settled for shuddering and cringing instead of the crying fits she used to have. It was easier to be around Ron, as he way only a year older than her, but she couldn’t stand the sight of Bill. His age was far too close to those men for her liking, and she felt terrible for how she trembled around him. He tended to avoid her because of this and it made her heart ache—they used to be so close.

She couldn’t live like this anymore. Afraid of her own family, her brothers who had once held her and comforted her now making her coil away in disgust and fear. They had never done anything to her—  _ would _ never do anything to her— yet every time she saw them, they twisted and morphed into faceless monsters, smiling widely and mockingly at her, their laughter and moans still ringing in her ears.

It had been disgusted,  _ she _ had felt disgusting. So dirty and filthy and defiled. She preferred the numbness she had felt after the ordeal, lying there on the ground cold and hurt. It was better than the fear, the anxiety, the  _ disgust _ that crawled underneath her skin each passing day.

But, she would end this today. The numbness had returned to her once again, so tired of being afraid all the time that she had shut down that part of her mind. It was like a defense mechanism, and she was sure that she could step outside and walk around the block with it.

Easier said than done, she was coming to realize. Not even three steps from the safety of her house and already, she could feel the unease creeping up her spine. The lack of people on the street put her at ease for a moment and she managed to exit her yard with no problem, turning left and making her way down the street.

She lived in a poorer part of town, with broken roads and messy yards and half-paved sidewalks, but it was still a nice walk. Until she heard the sound of a dog barking and instinctively looked, seeing a boy about her age shushing him and tugging on his leash. He glanced up at her, giving an apologetic smile, and tugged the dog again. She felt her skin crawl at the smile and quickly looked away, her hands balling up as she walked.

She was getting afraid, but she pushed the fear rising within her down and continued to walk, though a bit slower. She didn’t want to continue, wanting to turn around and head home, but she would persevere.

She turned left at the fork in the road, intent on walking a giant circle around her house when a wave of panic washed over her. 

She took a calming breath, as her therapist had suggested, turning to go back home. Except, home was much farther away than she had remembered. Or maybe it was the same distance as she remembered, except now she had to go back.

It was quickly becoming too much and her house was too far away and it was just too bright outside. She was too exposed now, out in the open for anyone to see her and ogle, and it made the tight ball of fear within her burst into full blown panic.

She was hyperventilating, she realized a bit distantly, a panic attack undoubtedly coming on. She should have known that coming outside would be a mistake; her own family she was accustomed to, but the outside world was dangerous. Any of the men she passed, any of them, from the boy watering his garden a few houses down to the man who had accidentally brushed against her. All of them, they all could be after her.

Her eyes darted around, trying to find something to ground herself before she got worse. Bushes, seven of them lined up on the other side of the road as a makeshift fence, a blue car parked a few feet away from her on the curb, a telephone pole with a piece of paper taped to it, a little bird pecking at—

She froze, her eyes darting back towards the pole and her eyes focusing on the paper. It was a missing poster for a child, appearing around eight or so. She couldn’t make out much else from her position, with the way the light reflected and curled around the image, it was like looking at an angel.

An angel who stared down at her in her time of weakness, eyes wide and as bleak as she felt at this moment. Eyes that reflected her own struggle and seemed to be offering her support.

A sign, she realized. A sign from God, a light in the hellish darkness that made up her life. A beautiful little angel, the sight of which made her feel relaxed and happy, a pleasant feeling radiating through her chest. Angels were pure being, the opposite of herself. And this little angel, he could be her salvation. He could share his purity with her, his light and warmth, and she could be pure once more.

She was tainted, dirty and defiled against her will, so disgusting and filthy. But this boy, his face so sadly looking at the camera, his eyes wide and bright. He was angelic, so pure and beautiful and everything she no longer was.

She shakily reached up and ripped the poster from the pole, shaking harder as she got a better look at the boy. The picture was thankfully in color and she could make out every detail of his features; his tiny little nose, his dark and messy hair, the splatter of freckles across his sun soaked skin, his bright and shining green eyes, those pink and oh so kissable lips.

She dragged the poster close to her face and breathed deeply, shuddering as only one thought crossed her mind.

_ Little boys are so cute. _

_ Chocolate Pudding _

Tom never liked shopping. Too many people, inconsiderate of those around as they chatted loudly on their phones or with friends or negligent parents who let their children run wild in the stores. However, with no one else in the house to shop for food, he was left with few choices.

It was a shame he couldn’t bring Harry out with him. He was rather frightened of the outside world, and with all the noise around Tom at the moment, he was sure Harry would freeze. He hoped that one day in the future, when Harry was older and more accustomed to the world, he could bring him out. At least for a little while, to shop and maybe eat out; if he kept Harry out too long, someone else might notice how cute he was and try to take him away.

For now, he would settle for showering Harry with gifts from the stores, a few cakes he had picked up in addition to the groceries and a new outfit. He had checked the tag on Harry’s shorts after their bath, so he was sure they would fit. The shirt was a bit tricky, seeing as the one he was wearing was at least four sizes too large, but after the awkward handling of a mannequin, he was sure he had one of the same size.

He only had a few more things to pick up, milk and another tub of ice cream, and he was a bit surprised to find he was in a good mood. It probably was due to the fact that Harry was waiting for him at home, and while he had looked sad that Tom had to leave, Harry knew it was necessary. As much as Tom would love to never have to go outside for anything, they couldn’t live on delivery pizza and tap water forever.

They were both growing boys, Harry more than Tom, and needed proper nutrition, something more substantial than peanut butter sandwiches, carrots, and take out. Tom would feel horrible if Harry didn’t grow due to his own laziness.

The thought of watching Harry grow up, to change from the cute little boy he was to a cute young man, made Tom giddy. Joy warmed his chest and he felt himself smile as he walked, his mood elevating even more. He had never considered the future before and thinking about it now, with Harry by his side, he had never been happier.

That good mood shattered when a piece of paper was rudely shoved into his face.

“Please, take one. If you see him, contact the number on the bottom.”

Tom snatched it without stopping, glancing at the paper. It was backwards and he quickly flipped it, freezing at the contents.

Harry’s face stared back at him, still as cute as it had been when Tom had left that morning. The same paper that had been hanging up on the lampposts on his street, updated a bit to show when the last sighting of him was.

Tom whirled around, his eyes scanning the crowd. He easily spotted the man who had handed him the paper, standing close to the road and wearing a filthy looking overcoat. Honestly, everything about him was filthy, from his elbow lengthed hair to his threadbare shoes; he looked like he slept in the garbage. Tom was tempted to get a better look at him, but was unsure of how that would go.

The man looked skittish and suspicious, his eyes darting to the face of every person he handed the papers to, as though trying to memorize what they looked like. His hair was falling in front of his face, obscuring it from sight, and Tom frowned. He would need a better way to get a look at the man.

There was a small bridge ahead, where pedestrians could walk above traffic, and Tom quickly made his way to it. He took the steps two at a time and was careful to avoid bumping into anyone as he leaned against the railing near the end. He had a perfect view of the street a few feet away and glanced around before pulling out his phone, snapping a picture of the man when he turned to face the bridge.

The man looked at him for a moment and Tom continued to stare down at his phone, feigning interest as he watched the man through the camera. He looked away after a moment and Tom smirked, pulling up the picture and studying it for a moment.

He was attractive, Tom would admit, even if he looked homeless; the man had a youthful face hidden behind a scraggly beard and haggard eyes, with good bone structure and lovely hair. His coat was unbuttoned enough to show he wasn’t wearing a shirt and had a strange tattoo on his upper chest, another one farther below. Tom assumed he had more as well, seeing as most people didn’t stop at two.

Tom couldn’t make out his eyes from where he stood, and he had not so much as glanced at the man when he handed Tom the paper, but he doubted they were green. The eyes in his photo were dark, maybe brown or gray, nowhere near the same shade as Harry’s own. No one had eyes like Harry, so bright and vibrant and sparkling.

Ah, the thought of Harry made Tom smile again, his mood lifting a little as he pushed off the railing and joined the crowd again. What relations this man had to Harry, he would worry about at a later date. It was a problem for another day, he decided as he walked, balling up the poster and tossing it into a nearby bin.

But for now, milk and ice cream. Maybe some marshmallows too, now that Tom thought about it. He would need to burn this poster before Harry saw it.

_ Funnel Cake _

Harry was vibrating in excitement when he saw the door open, Tom stepping through it, his arms weighed down with a few bags. He watched as Tom kicked off his shoes and set the bags on the stairs, giving Harry a smile that he eagerly returned.

“I’m home,” Tom said, still smiling. “What do you have behind your back?”

“Welcome back!” Harry said cheerfully, presenting Tom with a bouquet of flowers. He was very proud of himself for knowing the name, from hearing it on last night’s movie. The boy had given the girl a bouquet of flowers and she had started crying, though Harry didn’t understand why. He knew Tom wouldn’t cry since Tom never cried; he got quiet sometimes and had a far off look on his face but never cried.

Tom blinked at them. “What’s this?”

“It’s a bouquet,” Harry said proudly. “Do you like it?”

“They’re lovely,” Tom said and Harry beamed as Tom gently took the flowers from him. They were very nice flowers, red roses and white lilies and little green plants, so different from the flowers in the backyard. Harry wanted to give Tom one of those, since they were so pretty, but Tom always kept the back door locked and he wasn’t allowed to go out the front door; Tom said very bad things would happen if he did and Tom went outside every day so he would know.

Tom sighed as he got down on his knees so that they were the same height and set the bouquet beside him. He gently took placed both of his hands on Harry’s shoulders, a blank look on his face.

“Harry, if you had to pick a favorite person in the word, who would it be?” Tom said seriously and Harry blinked at Tom.

Well, that was easy. He only knew three people, and the other two…Harry didn’t like to think about them too much, it made his head hurt. Instead, he smiled at Tom and answered honestly, “You, of course! Tom’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!”

Tom smiled then and Harry felt his tummy flip at the sight of it. “That’s good. You’re my favorite person in the whole world too.”

Tom leaned forward and gently kissed the top of Harry’s head, making him giggle. He like it when Tom gave him kisses. It always made his heart beat faster and his tummy feel like there were millions of little butterflies in it.

Tom looked down at the flowers on the floor, leaning over to pick them up, a curious look on his face. That made Harry a bit nervous; Tom had said they were lovely, but he never said he  _ liked _ them.

“Harry,” Tom said, tilting his head slightly, “you didn’t go outside to get these, did you?”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Nope! A boy came by and dropped them off. He was really scary but he said he was a friend of yours and he had a key. He said they were a gift for you and he took one out for me too, one of the lilies. It was really nice of him.”

“I see,” Tom said, his smile replaced by a small frown, making Harry squirm a little.  “And did this boy happen to give you his name?”

Harry thought for a moment. “I think it was Fence? Fenick? Fenrir…Fenrir! He said his name was Fenrir.”

“Fenrir. Huh, I don’t remember anyone names Fenrir,” Tom muttered, his eyes drifting down to the flowers in thought.

He was silent for a long time and Harry was starting to get nervous. He hoped Tom wasn’t too angry at him for talking to the other boy, since Tom had told him that strangers were bad. However, the boy had said he knew Tom, so he must not have been a stranger.

“Flowers die eventually and that makes them terrible gifts,” Tom said, looking back at Harry. Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling again. “So, why don’t we make a fire and use these as kindle? I have some papers that I need to burn anyway. We can make s’mores too. I bought marshmallows.”

Harry jumped for joy, clapping his hands together. “S’mores! Can I add peanut butter to mine? I saw it on TV.”

“Whatever you want, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and tell me what you thought! I'm actually still so nervous about this chapter lol.


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